You were an angel, an old friend of Castiel, but you'd never been to earth until now. Dean took a liking to you. You weren't a total dick like most angels he'd met, and you weren't so bad on the eyes either.

However, you were curious. Curious. That was a very good word to describe you. You were as curious as a cat. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but sometimes Dean wondered if you truly were as clueless as you acted. He wondered if you were as innocent as you presented yourself, or if you were really just fucking with him.

You sat in the passenger seat of his Impala ─ which he fondly called “Baby” ─ shuffling through a few CDs in the glove compartment. Dean knew you didn't need to be driven around, you were an angel for Christ's sake, but he liked having you around, and you seemed to enjoy riding in his car. Your soft voice spoke up, snapping him out of whatever thoughts he was having, one hand gripping the steering wheel tight.

“Hm?” Dean raised a brow, glancing over at your form as you held a CD. Oh, you picked one of the good ones. A large smirk grew on his face. “It's Metallica,” He stated, nodding down to the CD slot on the stereo system. “You put that in there and it plays music. Go on, have a listen, angel.”